


The Taran Letters

by Hobbit4Lyfe



Series: The Godric Stories [5]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Sleepy Hollow (1999), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Don't Judge Me, F/M, HIV/AIDS, I feel like I probably retconned my own fic within the same fic, I promise this won't make sense later, I was a dumb kid when I started this, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Murder, Purple Prose, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt, The MC lives in the US but doesn't go to Ilvermorny because Reasons, You need a healthy dose of suspension of disbelief for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit4Lyfe/pseuds/Hobbit4Lyfe
Summary: A set of letters written from an original male character. Set in the Godric Stories universe.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Original Male Character(s)
Series: The Godric Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/350624





	1. November 16, 2006

Thursday, the sixteenth of November, 2006  
My dearest little son Taran,  
I’m glad to be alive. After today’s crazy weather, I am glad to be alive.  
Every news station was calling for a lot of rain and possible tornadoes, but I didn’t think that a tornado was going to be around where I was at the time. I was wrong.  
I was thinking about you for most of the day, as I often do. I guess that made my unease worse as today wore on.  
About an hour before I was able to come home, everyone was warned that we may be under a tornado warning at any time. I started to become nervous.  
Then, finally, the warning came. The conditions were right for a tornado. A lot of people picked up their stuff, including me. We all went downstairs and into another room. Everyone was talking, panicked and confused.  
The first couple of seconds, I thought, oh, no, if a tornado hits the area, all of my scripts, all of my most prized possessions, will be lost.  
Then, a worse thought came to my mind: What if it hit this building? I could die. What would become of you, Taran, if I had died?  
To calm myself down, I started to sing. But, I still could not keep you off my mind.  
As I am writing this, you are two-and-a-half years old, and I will soon be twenty-seven. However, you will not be able to read this, and to completely understand what was going on today.  
I love you, Taran. I really, truly do. You are the most wonderful child I could ever have. I am not trying to offend your brothers and sisters in saying that.  
Your loving father,  
Godric Baggins


	2. November 17, 2006

Friday, the seventeenth of November, 2006  
Taran, my wonderful son,  
You are so special to me. I am so glad to have you as my eldest son, my eldest child.  
I remember that when your mother told me that you were going to be born, I was so happy. Sure enough, at eight o’clock on the night of April the eighteenth, 2004, you were born. I had helped your mother in the process.  
I cannot even begin to describe how I felt when you were first born, when you first looked up at me. It is the same feeling that I get coming home every evening, knowing that I am coming home to a wonderful child, to all of you – you, your brothers, and your sisters. Even coming home and seeing your mother.  
Taran, I love you so dearly. You are such a wonderful, intelligent boy. Most of that credit goes to your wonderful, intelligent mother.  
Your loving father,  
Godric Baggins


	3. November 20, 2006

Monday, the twentieth of November, 2006  
Taran,  
There is so much that I need to tell you. I guess that I have already started, but I do not know where to start about the more complicated things.  
I have done so much for a Hobbit of nearly twenty-seven. In the Shire, I’m not even an adult yet.  
I know it will take a long time to say everything, so I will continue doing so in parts.  
I love you, Taran. You are such a wonderful boy.  
Taran, when I finally give you these letters, I’m sure you’ll understand me better. I know you will. You’re a smart boy.  
Your father,  
Godric Baggins


	4. July 20, 2009

Monday, the twentieth of July, 2009  
Taran, my son,  
I know it has been two-and-a-half years or so, but I haven’t had the heart, really, to write. But I hope more attempts in the future will end up easier to go through with than my last few feeble attempts. For example, my first letter – I can no longer even remember if there was any real danger, or if it was only a tornado drill that conveniently happened during bad weather.  
I think, since it’s summer, I will have an easier time writing without having to concentrate on much anything else.  
I know, I haven’t explained anything, really, but I will. I mean, I will when I get a moment when it’s not too late. Tomorrow, maybe. But we’ll see. Who knows – I could decide to write another letter later tonight.  
Your loving father,  
Godric Baggins


	5. July 20, 2009 (part 2)

Monday, the twentieth of July, 2009 (part 2)  
Taran, my child,  
I know I already wrote this evening, but there are a couple things I wanted to mention. Mostly about your questions about Narnia. Some of them I’ll answer when I read you the books, but others, I can’t.  
I know we haven’t finished reading the first book, but the most important connection I have to Narnia comes into play in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Lucy Pevensie, the girl who found the passage in Professor Digory Kirke’s Wardrobe, is – or was, until this past October – my grandmother.  
I know, it was hard for me to take in, too, the first time I found out. I figured it out, actually, after reading the books for a summer assignment for English class in Sleepy Hollow – then North Tarrytown – as a boy, just before, or just as, my grandparents came to visit. I just made connections: My grandmother had two older brothers, Peter and Edmund. She had an older sister, Susan. She was from England, and as mentioned in the recent movie, was from Finchley. Her first name was Lucy. Her maiden name, oddly enough, was Pevensie. As I said, I made these connections. I had the perfect chance to confirm these theories with her that visit, after I managed to discover that Aslan had also visited – but that is a completely different story for a different letter.  
Also, as you saw a little over a month ago, I have visited, and still can visit, Narnia. And I do know Aslan. The story we are reading, as of this letter, will explain more of who he is. However, I cannot explain why I can go to Narnia still, and what my connection to him is, in addition to my grandmother being Queen Lucy, until another letter.  
Until later,  
Your loving father,  
Godric Baggins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking about "historical order" and not "publication order" here.


	6. July 21, 2009

Tuesday, the twenty-first of July, 2009  
Taran, my dear child,  
I wanted to explain more about the visit from my grandparents I mentioned yesterday – the one that deepened my connection to Aslan. Well, actually, to do that, I must start by telling you about an incident when I was seven, just months before I turned eight.  
I can’t explain why – yet – I was attacked by the Headless Horseman. Remember, I was living in Sleepy Hollow at the time. Your uncles and I, along with your grandfather – your aunt Johanna wasn’t born yet – were having our annual end-of-summer backyard camp-out. The Horseman came at us just before we were going into the tent to get to sleep. I should say, he came at me.  
I was grabbed by the neck and slammed up against the doors to the old barn we kept as a clubhouse. I can’t exactly explain what happened to me next – it was like he had gotten into my head. Luckily, my father pulled the Horseman off of me fairly quickly. I’m not sure why, but I insisted on continuing the camp-out, even after nearly being killed.  
The Horseman struck during the time – that one time – that my grandparents visited.  
Aslan somehow knew – doesn’t he always? – that Lucy Pevensie would be in town and hid himself in my house’s old barn. The night that my grandparents – and he – first arrived, somehow I knew to go to our backyard. I dragged my brothers out of bed, or, in your uncle Frodo’s case, a sleeping bag since he had to stay in the room your uncle John and I shared, while our grandparents were in town, and into the old barn. We were all in shock at meeting Aslan – especially your uncles, who didn’t believe me at first about my revelation about our grandmother.  
Aslan spoke to us individually – Frodo, John, and then me, but I will explain why that order in a different letter. While your uncles and I waited for our turn, we waited up in the loft. Suddenly, I had a sharp pain in my neck where I was attacked nearly four years before. I had a vision of the horse and rider rising from the Tree of the Dead, quickly riding for the Western Wood – for me.  
I cried out, warning Aslan and my brothers. I pleaded for your brothers to go back into the house and get help. I knew the Horseman was after me, so I stayed. Taran, I know you would call it courage, what I did. But I would say it was more along the lines of stupidity. Instinct, maybe, or a strong urge to protect those I care about. I guess, in a way, it really could have been courage in a risky way – but sometimes courage can be risky.  
I waited for the Horseman outside the door to the barn, with Aslan beside me. Within a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, he was there.  
I managed to fend off the Horseman – with, of course, the help of Aslan. I knew there was an old pitchfork hanging on the door just inside the barn. I finally got the hang of using it – after dropping it, and the Horseman tried to skewer Aslan through the shoulder with it. I managed to, thankfully, get said pitchfork out of Aslan and used it to drive off the Horseman.  
Aslan staggered back into the barn, and I followed him. By that time, even though it had only been a couple of minutes, he was bleeding heavily. I used the shirt I was wearing at the time, and, well, myself, to try and get it under control.  
He tried to tell me something that I would not understand until about three months before you were born. I will explain it more later, but he tried to explain to me who I am.  
At that point, my parents, my brothers, and my parents came in, interrupting Aslan’s message. That was a rather bad time to come in, because it was very important, what he was saying. It also could’ve been a strategic move, on my parents’ and grandparents’ part, so I wouldn’t get… well, cocky.  
After I was worried over, and cleaned up, we had to go to bed, trying to comprehend what Aslan had told us. I was also in shock over one thing: In addition to saving your uncles’ lives, I had also – I admit it – I had saved Aslan’s life.  
I am still in shock about it. Even after eighteen years.  
Your father,  
Godric Baggins


	7. July 22, 2009

Wednesday, the twenty-second of July, 2009  
Taran,  
I was attacked by the Headless Horseman a third time – the last day of summer before my seventh year of Hogwarts. This time, I’m sure it was stupidity that caused my actions – most of it was because I was showing off for your mother. I know that what I just said might not make much sense, but I will try to explain. Again, I will have to go back and start with something that happened before.  
It could be said that I first met your mother on my first day of Hogwarts. Really, in a way, I first met her at a concert the night before.  
The summer before my seventh year – your mother and your aunts – her sisters, that is – moved in next door. Then, at the end of summer, we had our annual end-of-summer camp-out. That year, your mother and your aunts came with your uncles and me – I say came with us because that year, instead of just staying in the backyard, we went hiking through the Western Wood to camp together – though in separate tents – at the Tree of the Dead, which your uncles and I… stumbled upon a couple of summers before.  
As I said, I must’ve been trying to show off when I purposely went to the resting place of my attacker. It was my own fault that I got hurt that time. Or, it may have had a bit to do with fate, but that is a different story.  
Sure enough, at midnight, he was there. We were waiting. We were as ready as we could be.  
We had brought a shovel to see if we could dig up the Horseman’s body, but I don’t remember if we ever found it. Sort of.  
Again, I tried to defend those I love – this time, with the shovel.  
I almost made it through the fight without injury. The Horseman’s sword scratched my right wrist. That was part of the curse I bear – one that I will explain another time.  
Your father,  
Godric Baggins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Supernatural seasons 9 and 10 happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm no longer satisfied with the direction this series was going at the time of starting, I'm cancelling it and basically starting over on my new account (https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmcgui12_gmu).
> 
> No, but, like, I really hate this version of this story, and I was cringing so much when I was typing it up.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Lion's Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299974) by [mmcgui12_gmu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmcgui12_gmu/pseuds/mmcgui12_gmu)




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